dysphoria, phantasmagoria

but don't you wanna see the world, boy
all the countries and the stars, boy
- troye sivan

my problems 
are beasts preying on the silences
filling the spaces between my heartbeats 

because i was born with a little hourglass waist 
tiny and fragile like tissue paper in the presents we were given as children 
and the rest of me didn't stay that way, 
but my face is a round picture-board of femininity, 
perfect cupid's bow and full upper lip, 
C cup undeniable 

imagine 
waking up one day 
wearing a glass suit
made of fragments of window panes 
that turns cold and unforgiving all of a sudden 
and is sharp in all that wrong places

that, 
my friend, 
is a little bit of what it is to be non-binary. 

so yes, my lungs say 
we don't want to do this 
but my brain says 
this isn't really your choice 

and the sturdyness of my thighs says, 
listen to the world your body gives you 
and follow the breadcrumb trail until it runs ot. 

The End

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